Sound Mind
by Starcat000
Summary: "What had they been thinking… What chance did a one star Weapon/Meister team have against an enemy that even Lord Death had trouble defeating." The battle to free the Kishin ends differently and Soul's future as a death weapon suddenly becomes uncertain. "This was his fault and he would do everything in his power to save Maka."


**Sound Mind,**

**Summery: **"What had they been thinking… What chance did a one star Weapon/Meister team have against an enemy that even Lord Death had trouble defeating." The battle to free the Kishin ends differently and Soul's future as a death weapon suddenly becomes uncertain.

Note: I do my best to catch as many spelling errors and grammar mistakes as I can before posting but I often re-edit the chapters later.

**Chapter 1: A Sound Mind,**

The eggs fizzled as they splattered into the flying pan and Soul quickly mashed the yolk and whites together in preparation for his signature dish, scrambled eggs. Golden light streamed through the window, not yet carrying the hash sharpness it would acquire later when the sun settled and began its' beat down of the desert sand. Maka lay curled on their tufty red couch immersed in the book she had cradled in front of her. All was quite and peaceful. The pan crackled and a bit of hot egg sprayed onto his hand. Soul froze for a moment to stare at the smoldering piece of egg, shaking his wrist to flick it off and frowning. That feeling of almost unease, which had been irritating him for the last few days, was back. Soul shrugged and scraped the rest of the egg onto two plates, banishing the thought and pulling out two sets cutlery. Maka, upon hearing him set the plates down on the wooden table, shut her book, placing it on the small pile beside the couch and stretched.

"Orange juice?" She asked as she walked pass the fridge and Soul grunted an affirmative. He then pulled off his plain apron and carefully navigated around a stack of books and paper precariously balanced on the edge of the kitchen counter, plopping down at the table. Maka soon joined him, eyeing the eggs and reaching for two pieces of bread, which she popped in the toaster. They kept the toaster at the table for this very purpose. She eyed the frugal meal and gave him an exasperated look.

"Scrambled eggs again Soul. You really need to widen your menu."

Soul rolled his eyes, "Its not like I'm planning to be a gourmet chef or anything."

So what if he made it basically every time he was designated breakfast cooker. It was still food.

Soul spooned egg into his mouth, chewing noisily, "Sides, you should be happy it's not burnt or anything. Have you seen those monstrosities Black-Star creates. At least my food is editable!"

Soul shoveled more of said food into his mouth, jabbing his spoon in Maka's direction to emphasis his point.

"Eww," Maka wacked him across the head with a book, causing him to chock and splutter as his food lodged in his throat.

"Shut your mouth when you eat," Maka continued oblivious to his plight, "You look like a slob." She then wiped the piece of egg he had accidently flicked at her off her cheek.

"What the hell Maka. You don't hit a guy mid swallow! Are you trying to chock me?"

Maka, ignoring his outburst, continued on, "At least when it's my turn to cook breakfast I at least attempt to branch out a little."

Soul, airways now free and able to breathe, snorted, "and we all know how well that turned out. Need I remind you of the jello incident."

Maka spluttered, a light blush appearing across her cheeks, "That was perfectly edible. You were just being picky." She then quickly bit into her slice of toast silencing any further comments.

Soul rolled his eyes. Only if the definition of 'edible' had changed to, 'green sludge from hell,' when he wasn't looking. He then followed Maka's example and tucked into the spread of eggs and toast before him. Soul absently rubbed his head, massaging the impact zone left by Maka's book. Usually the infamous 'Maka Chop' sent him reeling into space but today she seemed to have let him off with a trap. Maka must be in a good mood. And Maka in a good mood meant a good day for him. He lent back in his seat a smile stretching across his face, contemplating the relaxing day ahead. Maka lifted her eyebrows at the action, looking bemused. They spent the rest of the meal in relative harmony and upon its completion drifted to their preferred areas, Soul at the table, and Maka on the couch. The cobbled street outside slowly began to fill commuters, going about their business in the cool of the morning. Occasionally, the horn of a car could be here over the chatter of people, warding away anyone standing in its' path.

Several hours later the two on them were rushing around the apartment, getting ready. As was usual for Saturday they both left important stuff, like getting dressed, to the last minuet in favor of spending a lazy morning lounging about the apartment. Maka, though she put in a valiant effort to be always be organized, was as susceptible as him to what he liked to call 'Weekend-itise.' He didn't bother picking up the slack as everyone needed to relax occasionally and considering how high-strung Maka often was-what with her rigorous study schedule and combat training régime- a little leisure was a good thing. Besides, meeting Back-Star and Tsubaki at the basketball courts wasn't a particularly urgent appointment.

Soul did a quick sweep of the apartment, picking up some empty sheets of music paper and depositing them on the growing mound of half finished compositions covering the piano. With Maka's birthday approaching he had been attempting, unsuccessfully, to write her a song since he generally sucked at buying girls gifs. That and Maka had been bugging him to compose music for as long as she had known he could play the piano. It wasn't as easy as it sounded. He glared at the unassuming pile.

"Ready to go?" Maka yelled from her room where she had also been doing a last minuet tidy.

"Yeah. Hurry up I'm getting old out here," He threw his Mozart music book over the sheets, adding to the pile and obscuring his own work.

Maka poked her head around the corner and stuck her tong out. Soul gave a halfhearted attempt at straitening some of the paper but mentally declared it a lost cause after tipping several books onto the floor when his tampering caused the mound to destabilize.

"OK. Lets go," Maka spoke as she entered the room a few minuets later. She fiddled with her shoulder bag and looked up.

He turned around and shoved his wallet into his front pocket, glancing at Maka.

Their eyes met and an unsaid challenged pasted between them. He and Maka both evaluated the other for several seconds. Suddenly, they both leapt towards the door. He had an advantage, being in the living room and closer to the exit, but Maka had lost three times in a row and that had made her slightly more committed to escaping the apartment before him.

He was inches from the door when Maka 'playfully' elbowed him in the side, causing him to trip and allowing her to be the first out of the apartment. Soul signed, that meant he got the bothersome and totally uncool task of locking the door. The race to the door was a small tradition they had in which the loser had the honor of locking up the apartment. While not seeming like a terrible chore, locking the apartment was made difficult by the fact that their lock was slightly busted, meaning locking up took several attempts and lots of jostling and encouragement.

Soul turned and began to wrestle the deadbolt into place. Thank god they had a chain for the inside of the door.

"Hurry up Soul. I am wasting away." Maka parroted his earlier snipe and Soul grumbled under his breathe. Stupid lock…why hadn't they gotten a new one yet?

They exited their apartment several minuets later and turned right, joining the people in the street. The old lady in the flower shop, the one convinced they were a newly wed couple, waved. Soul rolled his eyes, they were way too young married, but returned the gesture all the same. It didn't matter how may times he had tried to explain that they were a Weapon/Meister pair the old lady had resolutely stuck to her opinion. Maka also waved, stopping for a few seconds to give a respectful nod before trotting to catch up to Soul who had continued down the street.

"She's really nice you know. She always offers me tea when I visit her shop." Soul glanced at Maka. Why would anyone visit a shop that sold flowers?

"If only she'd stop telling people we're married." He huffed in annoyance.

Maka's lips twitched, "Yeah," she giggled, "That is kind of annoying,"

Soul frowned, smiling, "Why would anyone want to marry a washboard."

Maka wacked him over the head, "This coming from Mr 'I'm so cool and sarcastic.'" She put her hands on her hips, leaning towards him.

Soul made to push her away but she easily slipped around his arms, she was a lot better in hand-to-hand combat. Their teasing argument dissolved into a playful wrestling match, disturbing passers by who were forced to leap out of their way. After rolling on the ground a few times Maka detached her self, standing up and dusting herself off.

"Come on," she motioned for him to get up, "We're going to be late."

Soul rolled his eyes and hosted himself up. Side by side they once again continued down the street. People bustled around them and the laughing sun rose higher overhead.

Soul paused for a moment as a smear of red on his upper arm caught his eye. When Maka had elbowed him he must have brushed against a small nail or wooden splinter as there was now a small line on red blood running up his arm. He stared at the thin scratch. It was tiny, barely noticeable and insignificant. Yet, something was off.

Maka, who had noticed him freeze, also halted.

"Soul?"

There was something terribly wrong with this scratch but he could not quite put his figure on what it was.

Soul quickly grabbed Maka's hand, dragging her closer and thrusting his arm at her eye level.

"Soul you don't just shove an injury in someone's face," She examined in irritation.

"Does this look weird to you?" He asked and Maka gave him an odd, there's something wrong with you, look. After a moment of glaring she signed and peered at his arm.

"No, not really. Looks like a small scrape to me," Maka flicked her hand in a dismissive motion, tugging him once again down the road.

"Its so small you probably can't even feel it. After all, we've both had a lot worse," seeing him still frozen to the ground she continued, "If it bothers you that much I'm sure I have a Band-Aid here somewhere."

Maka then proceeded to rummage through her backpack. Had she left the house with that bag? He couldn't remember. His eyes returned to the scratch. Something was different. But what was it? He went over the last few moments in his head.

Soul's breath hitched, all sound vanished, and his brain finally caught up. Maka had said, 'You can't even feel it.' Can't even feel it. Can't FEEL it. FEEL! He couldn't feel the scratch. Earlier that morning Maka's chop to the head had barely even fazed him and the hot egg at breakfast, which had landed on his skin, hadn't hurt either. In fact, Soul looked at his hands, all feelings of touch seemed muted. He curled a hand into a fist, digging his nails into the flesh. Nothing. There was nothing where there should at least be a slight sting.

A feeling of foreboding settled in his stomach. Something was horribly wrong.

Soul looked up. The world, which had seemed so bright and colorful moments before, was now covered in a thin layer of transparent mist. It pooled in the street corners and clung to the buildings like lichen, turning the world a dreary grey. He looked to Maka who seemed to be the only thing that hadn't had the colour leached out of it. She was still talking but what she was saying seemed to be coming to him from a great distance. It was slow and hard to make out.

"SOUL! What are you doing!" The alarm in Maka's voice snapped him back to reality. A sharp pain pierced his head and took root in his brain.

"What," he said irritably, massaging his forehead whilst he was hit with a wave dizziness. Maka was now looking at him with worry.

"You spaced out for a couple of seconds and you weren't answering me."

"Just a headache," Soul brushed off the concern, trying to rekindle his train of thought. What had he been thinking about? He had a nagging feeling it was something important.

"Maybe we should spend the day at the apartment." Maka suggested, looking unsure.

"I mean if you are not feeling well it would be better not to strain yourself with basketball."

"I'm fine." He interrupted, attempting to reassure Maka. He and Maka made a great pair and he firmly believed that there was nothing the two of them couldn't accomplish but Maka did tend to hover and mother him on occasion. Past experience let him know that it was just her nature to be slightly overbearing and it was best to reassure her and acknowledge the effort. A complete dismissal would just put her in a bad mood and no one wanted that.

"It was just a dizzy spell. I'll even sit the first game out. " It was the truth as the headache was now quickly fading.

Maka seemed placated by the response, "Well OK."

Soul signed and massaged his forehead, attempting to smooth out any vestiges of pain. It did not take long for him to be feeling well enough to once again enjoy the fresh air and the rare breeze, which was balancing out the suns rays quite nicely. A few seconds of walking and Maka spoke up again. "Hey look there's a lemonade stand." She pointed to the left across the paved street then glanced at him thoughtfully. "I'll get us some drinks."

She quickly ran off towards the stand, leaving Soul to slouch against a nearby wall. He smiled good-naturedly at a passerby who gave him a startled look, causing his grin to widen slightly. Once upon a time he would have been self-conscious about the frightened looks people gave him upon seeing his smile. Even here in Death City, where people had a significantly higher tolerance for the weird and creepy, he was often the subject of many disapproving stares and dark mutterings. Having razor sharp teeth seemed to just generate that response. However, he was happy to have put those days of lurking shamefully in shadows and behind his parents backs, in an attempt not to be knottiest, behind him. Ever since coming to Death City and partnering with Maka and meeting Black-Star, Tsubaki, Kid, Patty and Liz it had given him a new perspective on the meaning of "normal" and helped him get over his anxiety surrounding his appearance. Especially when he discovered that it wasn't unusual for Weapons to have some sort of physical anomaly. Sure he wasn't completely immune, Soul internally signed as a mother carrying a child hurried past him, but he was defiantly more comfortable.

"Hey Soul! Stop being lazy and help me carry these!" Maka's yell broke him from his reprieve and he lethargically turned in her direction, eyebrows shooting up when he saw the large number of drinks Maka was attempting to pick up and carry.

"Ummm.. Maka... I like lemonade as much as the next guy but don't you think that's a bit much."

She gave him a look, which screamed, are you an idiot, before saying, "Don't be silly, these are for Tsubaki and the others. I'm sure they'll be thirsty and it's rude not to get them lemonade when we're drinking it ourselves."

He was not sure it would be rude exactly but it was a nice gesture.

He sighed, "We should probably get another one for Black-Star. You know how he is. He'll probably try to steal Tsubaki's"

Maka smiled, "Good idea." She turned back to the stand, "Honestly, Tsubaki has a the patience of a saint."

He reached to pick up some of the cups but stopped when he heard Maka gasp in shock.

"What," he jolted in alarm, swinging his head around in an attempt to find her source of distress.

"Soul!" she exclaimed, "What happened to your hand?" She snatched his wrist, jostling the cups of lemonade she was carrying. Soul snapped his eyes in the direction of his hand, inhaling quietly when he saw the four small puncture wounds dotting his palm.

"What the Hell," he pulled his hand closer, shaking it from Maka's grip. When had that happened and why had he not noticed? They looked like nail marks. Several seconds of fussing about, finding a bench and Maka gave the injury a closer inspection.

"Soul," Maka admonished after realizing that he wasn't about to bleed out, "You need to be more carful. I know they're small but they can still get infected. You should have said something." She huffed again, "When did this happen?"

Soul stared at her in confusion, "I don't know?" he said slowly. The headache from early was back and he was having trouble concentrating.

Make puled a roll of bandage from her sport-duffle bag. He moved his hand away as she moved towards it, causing her to frown in irritation. The pain in his head had risen to a steady hum and he could feel the blood pumping through his ears. He stared at the bag. Something was really wrong.

"Maka were you always carrying that bag?" he questioned and Maka paused in her efforts to wrap his hand.

"Of course I have," she snatched his wrist while he was distracted, "I left the apartment with it after packing…" Maka trailed off, ceasing her bandaging attempts and gazing at the bag in confusion.

"Now that you mention it, it does seam bigger."

The both stared at the bag for several seconds. Soul tore his eyes from the offending object and once again focused on his injured hand. The unease was crashing into him full force and he knew he was missing something oblivious.

He pocked the injury with his free hand, ignoring Maka's protest. Then it hit him…again…he couldn't FEEL the injury. The smoke and grey landscape returned and the buildings lost their colour. Suddenly things started falling into place, their apartment had been all-wrong! They didn't have a piano, and he had never played the piano for Maka despite her insistence. And everything had been way too messy with stacks of books and paper littering the floor, last he had checked their apartment had been ridiculously clean courtesy of Maka being a neat freak. He swung around, grasping Maka's shoulders before he once again forgot the realization.

"Maka focus on feeling," he almost yelled at her and Maka stumbled back in shock, looking confused.

"Trust me on this and just focus," he cut off her protest. Maka's expression became determined as she resisted the urgency in his voice. That's what he loved about Maka, in times of emergency he could count on her to not only understand him but trust his judgment without question. She refocused, closing her eyes.

"Wow…What happen?" Maka said in confusion when she opened them again.

Soul sighed in relief as the headache vanished and the last shreds of the illusionary reality melted away.

The world around them, the street, buildings and trees was white. The people who had crowded the street had vanished and were replaced by an erri silence.

"It appears to be some sort of illusion," Maka said poking a nearby building, watching several shadows leap and twist around the movement.

"If so, are we still in the illusion?" She looked around, "But that's impossible because that would mean it's double layered. Or have we been trapped in some location?"

"But why?"

Maka glanced at him, mirroring his confusion. The shadows swirled towards her hand before fading away.

"Um, maybe we should avoid touching anything,"

Maka nodded, "Good idea,"

Further exploration of the area revealed no changes. Just a white, colorless version of Death City.

A rumble shook the ground, causing them both to freeze.

"That doesn't sound good."

"Soul…I think we should run,"

"Waa?" Soul spun around to see a swirling mess of black shadows speeding towards them, enveloping the bland environment.

Unfortunately, no matter how fast they ran the black mass was faster and quickly began to gain ground. And with the white environment being seemingly endless it did not look good for them.

The out of the corner of his eye Soul spotted a splash of brown.

A door? It stood out being the only thing of colour for miles.

"This way." He grabbed Maka's hand and pulled her down the street.

She also spotted the door and they both sprinted towards it. Soul leapt forward, grasping the brass handle and yanking the wooden door open. However, just as they were about to dash through Maka let out a cry and Soul turned to find that tendrils of black had lashed out and wrapped around her torso, dragging her backwards. He lunged forward, gripping the doorframe tightly with one hand and reaching for hers with the other.

"Maka," he gasped as his hand closed around hers, "Hold on." He didn't know what the black sludge did but he was sure it wasn't anything good. His arm tensed under the extra weight and his knuckles around the frame turned white under the stress.

Maka grunted in pain as the strain on her arm increased. The tendrils were creeping up her torso and wrapping around her shoulder, encasing her in a black cocoon. Soul gritted his teeth and strained to pull her towards him and out of danger.

"I thought you were into tentacle henti," Maka coughed.

"Don't make bad jokes." Soul grimaced, huffing as he tried unsuccessfully to free her. Jokes had never been her fortay.

Soon Maka's entire body was swallowed by the ravenous mass of black with only her head and arm visible.

"Soul!" Maka's alarm brought his attention to a few small tendrils, which were making their way along her arm to where his hand grasped hers. She glanced at him in panic then back into the swilling mess to black sludge, which had formed a thick wall behind her. When she met his eyes again his heart dropped a dread settling in the pit of his stomach. Her eye's held a grim determination. A determination Soul usually associated with Maka doing something stupid and life threatening.

"Don't you dare let go," He growled, attempting once more to pull her towards him. She inched forward. For a moment he thought the perhaps he would succeed. But the black tendrils continued to creep towards him and Maka donned a sealed expression.

"Soul." She began in a quiet voice.

"Don't!" he cut her off.

Then she let go and in two eternally long seconds, her hand slipped away. The tips of her figures brushed past his and he watched in horror as she slipped from his grasp.

"MAKA!" His yell sounded desperately flat in the still environment.

Her head disappeared into the sludge until only her outstretched hand could be seen. Then that was gone too. He stared at the spot in disbelief, unwilling to look away, hoping against hope that she would return.

Then the sludge surged towards him and he stumbled backwards in shock, tripping over the slightly raised doorframe and into the emptiness beyond. Soul dazedly gazed up at the writhing black tentacles, which tried to follow him through the door but were halted abruptly, hitting an invisible wall at the threshold. He continued falling downward, watching the floating door disappeared. A point of black in a sea of never ending white.

"Maka," He whispered, "Stupid… Maka."

MAKA! He screamed internally but the starkness of his environment seemed to swallow his thoughts and the rest of his fall was spent in a state of stunned mental blankness.

Soon he lost all sense of time. Falling, Falling through nothing.

Falling….

Then he wasn't.

A roomed sprung out of the ground around him like a giant hand, enclosing him in red and black walls, which contrasted startlingly with the previous white. It was so sudden and unexpected that it took Soul several seconds to register that he was lying, arms spread wide, on a hard tiled floor. He gazed dumbly up at the red curtains, which were slung across the ceiling akin to a circus tent, blinking in disbelief.

The sound of scratchy static and loud popping drew his attention and he slowly turned his head to the left, gawking stupidly at the old phonograph, spinning a dusty record. However, instead of the usual halting jazz, it was playing static. Soul pulled his aching body upright and was overcome by an intense coughing fit when his moment disturbed a cloud of dust. In glancing around he was bothered find that everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. Even the single lamp, which stood in the center of the room, seemed dim, flickering occasionally. He put a hand on the solitary table to steady himself, studying the limp red curtains, drooping along all the walls. He looked uncertainly at the chair next to him, which was covered, in grey cobwebs. This…This was…Souls mind seemed to splutter, thoughts coming to him sluggishly. This was that room, the one from his dreams. But it wasn't exactly the same, for example, the dust was a new development and where was the little demon. Was this all a dream then? A terrible, terrible dream.

That meant that Maka…

The air shifted ever so slightly and the curtains seemed to waver, brushing lightly across the red and black tiles. An all-encompassing dread crept up Souls spine, causing him to shiver. Slowly, ever so slowly, Soul turned his head and was greeted with a familiar and equally terrifying door. An irrational fear overcame him and Soul stumbled backwards, tripping over the chair and throwing up more dust. He covered his mouth to prevent himself from coughing, grabbing ahold of the table.

However, like many times before, the draw and power of the door was too great and Soul soon found himself walking over and opening it. The cool metal knob felt unreal in his hand as he wrenched the door open only to be quickly sucked out into the darkness beyond.

Blackness. Dark and silence swelled around him and he lost all notion of direction, spinning through the gloom. Lights flickered in the distance. A loud drumming came then faded just a quickly, leaving Soul straining to hear. The lights disappeared and the drumming returned, slow and methodical.

Thump, Thump.

Thump, Thump.

Like a heartbeat. It swelled around him, piercing his scull, hammering against his mind. Soon all he could hear, sense and feel was the sound, beating away. Soul curled into a ball, cradling his head. It continued on until he lost all other senses.

The lights returned, even though Soul was sure that he had his eyes closed. They flicked and dance in distracting ways, inducing a feeling close to motion sickness. Sometimes they merged together and he swore he could hear someone calling his name. But the thumping made it impossible to distinguish other sounds. Soul groaned, the spinning and thumping was overwhelming, it was making him feel sick. He wanted it to stop. He wanted to rest.

Light enveloped his vision.

"SOUL!" Someone was talking to him. A silhouette blocked out part of the light.

"Ma..ka?" He croaked, struggling to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Soul. Can you here me?"

Someone was there. Soul attempted to concentrate on the voice but the darkness overtook him and he drifted away.

Thump, Thump…Nothing.

He didn't know how long it was until the light returned, gathering once again before his eyes. The thumping seemed to settle into a low drone.

"Soul. I want you to focus on my voice," It was the voice again.

"Soul. You need to wake up now," It was a male voice. The silhouette returned, seeming fuller then the previous encounter. Soul attempted to answer but instead gasped for breath. Suddenly, he was aware that he was lying on something hard. The thudding seemed to fade into his peripheral hearing.

"Soul. Nod if you can understand me."

It was a simple command but Soul struggled to comprehend the movement. He spent several seconds fighting internally as the darkness fought to take hold. It would be so much easer to return to the dark. But he needed to know. Needed to know what had happened to Maka. With his last vestiges of energy Soul twitched.

There was a rustle from above and then, "Good. Now Soul I want you to focus on me."

Focus. What was focus? Soul grunted and the sound reverberated through him, making him aware that his limbs seamed to have returned to him. That meant his eyes were also his. If he could just open them then maybe he would be able to focus.

The thought seemed to trigger something and the light snapped into view and a figure above him was revealed. A tall man with white hair was hovering over him. He blinked and the thumping faded, allowing his mind to finally clear. His vision also cleared and the world came into focus. Dr. Stain looked down at him, a hint of relief stretching across his usually impassive face.

Soul stared in confusion at the face silhouetted against a round medical light, hovering just out of reach.

"Stain?" He sluggishly lifted an arm to rub his head, taking note of the white linen sheets stretched across the hard surface he was lying on. Soul frowned, it was too hard to be a bed and he was also way too high up.

Then he was much more awake.

What was he doing on one of Stain's lab tables! Images of dissected animals danced across his vision and Soul tried to sit upright, intent on escaping as soon as possible. Spots of red dotted his vision and Soul groaned. Pain sprung up across his torso. His head felt heavy.

"Whoa there." Stain pushed him flat, "I wouldn't move if I was you. That stab wound is still healing. Not to mention your recent brush with Maddness," Stein gestured downwards, stepping back to give him room. Soul stared at Stain not quite comprehending what was being said but relaxing backward all the same.

Soul pulled down the sheets covering him, staring in confusion at his bandaged abdomen. Stain slumped in a chair beside the 'bed,' looking exhausted, twisting the bolt in his head, keeping his eyes fixed on Soul. His sluggishly mind slowly registered all of Stains words and he turned to gape at Stain.

"Brush with Madness? What are you talking about? What is this?" Soul gestured to the bandages.

Stein sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly, but did not respond. Soul looked around him, attempting to discern some answers. The room was small and dark lit only by a singular medical light hanging from the ceiling. The floor around him was covered in stitching, not unlike the stitching across Stain's own face, which extended up the legs of the table he was on. Around him were some standard medical equipment, a heart monitor, a drip stand and medical tubing.

"Where am I?"

Stein lit a cigarette still keeping a close eye on him. The smoke wafted through the room, catching the light. He took a long drag, exhaling in a deep breath.

"You're in my operating room." He took another drag, noting the horrified look on Souls face, "Don't worry," Stain smiled, "This one's for putting things together not taking them apart."

Soul didn't feel any safer. At a loss he looked around again. He opened his moth to ask another question but was halted when a door to his left was flung open.

That mummy nurse, he could never remember her name, and another woman came in wheeling a bed. They began, by the looks of it, the preparation to move him from the operating table to said bed. Silence descended, broken only by footsteps. Soul felt irritation swell within him as no one bothered to explain what the hell was going on. Brush with madness? What the hell was that all about and when had he gotten the puncture wound? This was so uncool. The last thing he remembered was…was…Soul wracked his brain. It had been a fight. So that meant he had been with Maka…

The mummy nurse grabbed him under the arms and made to life him into the new bed.

That's right! They had been fighting Medusa, Soul felt somewhat relieved as the memories began to trickle back. Well, he and Maka hadn't been fighting Medusa they had been fighting Crona. But that fight had been a success and he had definitely not received any serious wounds during the battle as Maka had taken the brunt of the damage. So what happened next…

His mind brought him nothing.

The Kishin! Had they succeeded?

Soul looked down at his abdomen in confusion, focusing on the light red mist, which could be seen seeping through the bandages. This wound…How had it happened? Soul's mind halted as the memories of the night came rushing back…._Blood so much blood._

_Maka was bleeding, there was a large hole in her chest, created by some sort of shockwave unleashed by the Kishin when they had foolishly latched onto its' trailing bandages. They were falling and it was all that he could do to get behind her and cushion the impact. The ground rushed to meet them, seeing Soul smash full force through a pile of creates and collide heavily with the road below. He ignored the pain, unaware that there was a large, iron bar imbedded in his abdomen. Maka was still bleeding. Blood was flowing freely from her chest and Soul tried to stem the flow with his hands, ripping off his jacket to help pressurize the wound. So much blood, he grimaced, continuing in his effort to halt the flood. She was unconscious. He was helpless. He gasped and was over taken by a bought of wet coughing. If he could just keep her alive until help arrived, he thought desperately, watching his own blood leak down his chin to mingle with Maka's. Then the blood escaping through his figures changed colour…It was black. Panic coursed through. Yells could be head in the distance as expositions rocked the city. _

"Soul!" The shout brought him back to reality and he gasped for breath. Dazedly he focused on Stein…what had happened to Maka! Despite having been moved to the other hospital bed Soul lunged across the operating table and grabbed onto Stine's lab coat. There were shouts of surprise as the tubing attached to his arm came lose and his heart monitor disconnected, producing a long beeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

"Where's Maka!?" He dragged Stein down to eye level.

"WHERE IS SHE!?" He yelled when Stein failed to respond.

"Soul you need to calm down." Stein said calmly and he motioned to mummy nurse who was standing behind him.

"NO! TELL ME WHERE SHE IS," Panic coursed through him. Maka couldn't be gone… it wasn't possible. The black blood…

Soul grabbed Stein's arm, increasing his grip on the lab coat. His arm shimmered in preparation to transform into a blade. Soul opened his mouth to yell again when he felt a small prick in his neck. Suddenly, the world began to spin and he lost his hold, falling to the ground only to be caught by Stein. No! He couldn't fall asleep now. What happened to Maka? Even as these thoughts passed through his head his vision dimed and he once again sunk into darkness.

-LINEBREAK-LINEBREAK-LINEBREAK-

Warmth was the first thing he felt when he drifted back to consciousness. He was surrounded by soft material and his head rested on a fluffed pillow. Soul's eyes flew open in alarm, panic coursing through him.

"Maka!"

He bolted upright, ignoring the pain, which flared in his abdomen. He twisted frantically around, snapping his head back and forth. He was in the school ward under the large window, through which warm afternoon light was streaming.

"What the…SOUL! You're awake," came an enthusiastic yell from chair next too him. In a flash Black-Star was by his side, giving him an overenthusiastic hug.

"Dude, you were like asleep forever!" Black-Star was now shaking him, "I told them you would wake up! Because no one keeps a god like me waiting."

Soul ignored Black-Star, attempting to shove him away and struggling to free his legs from the bed sheets. However, Black-Star was immovable in his enthusiasm.

"Get Off!" Soul snapped angrily when he failed to extract himself. Black-Star looked slightly affronted but was undeterred.

"Dude, where are you going? I'm right here! No need to rush off."

"GET OFF ME," he yelled, "I need to find Maka," he struggled again to push off Black-Star, elbowing him harshly in the ribs.

"Soul," came a quiet voice somehow cutting through Black-Star's yelling. Soul's eyes settled on Tsubaki who was hovering worriedly at Black-Star's back.

"Maka is…" He froze as Tsubaki paused. MAKA is WHAT? He waited for her to finish.

"Well…physically… Maka is fine. So please don't run off. Dr. Stain said you would pull you stitches if you moved around too fast," Tsubaki finished quietly.

"Maka's alive?" He whispered, relief flooding through him.

"Sure she is!" Black-Star proclaimed, "Take's more then a stupid Kishin to bring down Maka."

Tsubaki gave an awkward smile, tugging at Black-Star's shoulder in an attempt to pull him off Soul. Soul collapsed back onto the bed, laughing quietly. Maka was alive. He put an arm over his eye's once again signing in relief. He looked around, expecting to see her in the bed next to him, frowning when he saw it was empty.

"Man you would not believe the stuff that has happened while you were out. Like, Lord Death totally fought off the Kishin and then, oh dude, Spirit went mental and beat the shit out of those creepy mice people. And it's been high alert for the last few days..."

Shit, how many days had he been out? Spirit went mental?

Soul began pulling himself slowly out of bed, disconnecting himself from the various monitors.

"Ahh? Where are you going?" Black-Star said, confused.

"Too find Maka,"

Black-Star and Tsubaki shared a look which made Soul uneasily.

"Soul…" Tsubaki began gently.

"I wouldn't pull that out if I were you." Soul jumped at the interruption. Stein stood in the doorway, arms crossed, "You're body is still recovering." He looked drawn, lazy smoking his cigarette despite it being a medical ward.

"I want to see Maka," Soul said as forcefully as possible. He had had enough of this bullshit. He glared at Stein. He still mad about the whole drugging incident.

"No sense of preservation at all," Stein sighed, shaking his head. He examined Soul, striding over and untangling several tubs, which had gotten caught in the bedpost.

"I suppose you will find out eventually. So I might as well take you now."

Soul blinked as Stein gripped the back of his shirt and hauled him out of bed, standing him upright. He wobbled under his own weight.

"There, now hold this and try not to pull your stitches." Stein said, messing around with some of the medical equipment.

"You never know what sort of things might happen in the operation room if you visit to often. Best not to go back, yes?"

Soul shivered at Steins creepy smile. Carefully, he moved out of the room. Black-Star, who had been uncharacteristically silent doing the exchanged, watched him walk past with an unreadable expression. Tsubaki looked worried.

Soul followed quietly behind Stein, dragging his IV drip beside them, concentrating of conserving his energy as they continued downwards. As they got closer and closer to the holding cells and lower dungeon his sense of dread grew. Why was he being led here of all places. They stopped at a locked ward and as Stein punched a lock code into the door's key-pad Soul glanced around and shivered. The hallways were all completely white and illuminated by low LED lighting, creating an eerily stark environment.

The door slid open and Soul faulted when he saw Spirit standing at an odd rectangular window. Stein pushed past when Soul stopped moving, taking a tray from a nurse, whom he was sure had drugged him earlier that day, and was standing beside Spirit. However, instead of flirting with the hot nurse, an action he had come to expect, Spirit continued staring blankly through the window only turning around when Stein approached. Soul gulped, legs turning to jelly, unwilling to move. Would Spirit blame him for failing to protect Maka? He wouldn't blame him if he did. Stein lent over and placed a hand of Spirits shoulder, whispering something to Spirit who turned to look a Soul, appearing to just knottiest him. Stein disappeared out a side door and Spirit motioned for him to stand beside him. Cautiously, Soul approached.

"Soul…how are you?" Spirit said, sounding somewhat strained, eyes flicking over Soul and hovering on his injured abdomen. Soul noted that he had large circles under his eyes.

"OK…I guess,"

Spirit realized a long breath, "That's good…"

Soul drew level with Spirit and was finally able to see through the window. It was another hospital room with white walls, floors, and containing little furniture. As Soul's eye's slept the room he caught sight of…

Maka!

Maka was in the room sleeping in a bed, which was bolted to the ground in the corner.

"That's Maka…What's she doing down here?"

Spirit gave him an almost pitting look, making Soul shift uncomfortably

Spirit sighed, "You will see in a second" Soul looked at him, confused.

Stein entered the room and Maka sifted, raising herself into a sitting position, focusing of Stein, green eyes narrowing.

"STEINY! I missed yoooouu," came a very sudden and un-Maka-like yell.

Soul froze staring in horror as Maka, or someone who looked very much like her, rolled out of bed with such enthusiasm that she flung herself half way across the room.

"Heheh you have a bolt in your head…hehehe," Maka giggled, flipping to her feet and pointing. She proceeded to saunter up to Stein, twisting and twirling on the spot, looking very drunk. It reminded him of the fight with Crona, Soul thought, dread settling in his stomach. Maka circled Stein a few times before snatching the apple he had been carrying, eating it in two impossible bites.

"What's wrong with her," he whispered, hoping that his theory was incorrect.

Spirit glanced over at him, tearing his eye's from Stein who had offered Maka another apple. Maka hated apples!

"She's been completely consumed by Madness," Spirit eventually sighed, looking very old and tired.

What? Souls mind stalled.

"But…But… how?"

"Her mind and soul have become disconnected from each other, causing destabilization. Most likely it is a product of the black blood," Spirit slouched.

No! That could not be possible…Maka had purged the blood from her veins after the flight. He had pulled her back. She had been fine!

"How?" He said again.

"We are not one hundred percent sure at the moment," Spirit glanced at him, "But if it's any consolation her mind seems to still be intact even if it is disconnected from her soul and body,"

It wasn't much of a consolation and a glance at Spirit told him that he didn't think so either.

"Too keep you bolted down…bolted to reality…wouldn't what to come lose and slip away. Hehehehe," Maka's voice drew his attention back to the room as he watched her walk drunkenly towards Stein.

"I am just here to do an evaluation," Stein said in an even tone, taking out a clipboard, "would you please answer some questions."

" Hehe hahah, Stein, Stein, Dr. Dr. Stein…are you going to examine me…D-oc-taaarr," Maka threw herself at Stein giggling, tugging on his arm.

Soul didn't see the punch until it collided with Stein's forearm as he halted it in a block. Maka flipped away, sweeping her leg around in a wild kick, which Stein caught. Maka then summersaulted backwards, breaking his grip, landing on her feet then swaying back and forth. The sudden bought of violence was so unexpected that Soul was rendered momentarily speechless. That style of fighting was way more advanced then they had been taught, it was both halting and fluid, making it completely unpredictable and reminding him once again of the battle with Crona.

"She's very volatile at the moment," Spirit spoke, his voice slightly dark, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Stein's the only doctor that can handle her unpredictability." Spirit did not sound happy with the arrangement. Soul wasn't happy either.

Maka appeared to be readying herself for another attack when something made her freeze. Slowly, she turned her head until she was staring, unblinkingly, at the observation window. Soul shifted uneasily as her eye's seemed to meet his. But that was impossible because he was sure this was a one-way window. However, Maka apparently had sensed something because she lost all interest in Stein and turned fully in his direction.

"SOUL!" Maka yelled happily and for a moment she sounded like the Maka he knew and loved.

Bang! Soul leapt back in fright as Maka slammed into the window. She pressed her cheek against the glass, fixing him in place with wide green eyes.

"Soul, there you are," She grinned, pressing up against the glass.

"Hehehe, what are you waiting for, heheehehaha," Soul gazed in confusion as Maka giggled manically, licking the pane separating them. When he failed to respond she pulled back seeming momentarily confused.

"Soul! SOUL EATER! Come to your Meister…" Maka sung, bringing a fist back and smashing it against the reinforced glass. There was a loud crack and the window shook. What the hell! Soul gazed in horror at the now bleeding fist, Maka had never been that strong. Several seconds passed and Maka continued to stare at the glass, a look of irritation spreading across her face.

"He's mine," She yelled suddenly, causing Soul to jolt in fright. Maka once again hit the glass, this time he could almost feel the shockwave. She appeared annoyed as if the glass had personally insulted her.

"My…weapon!" She hit again and the reinforced material buckled, "You… can't …have… him!" She punctuated each world with another attack all the while grinning.

"I think it's time we left," Spirit said and Soul looked up at him numbly. They turned around and Spirit guided him out of the room. All Soul could think about was how this was all his fault. If he hadn't let Maka use the Black Blood…Maybe if Black-Star had fought Crona like originally planned, then none to this would have happened. He should have insisted they stop, put his foot down. Maybe if they hadn't gone leaping after the Kishin like complete lunatics then Maka would be alright. What had they been thinking… when Maka attached herself to the Kishin's trailing bandage and attempted to attack the fleeing monster. What chance did a one star Weapon/Meister team have against an enemy that even Lord Death had trouble defeating. He should have seen, thought logically and not gone charging into a battle they had no chance of winning. He should have protected her. Now she was…he couldn't bring himself to think it.

"I'm sorry," Soul said in a gush of air the moment they stepped out of the ward.

Spirit looked down with an unreadable expression. Spirit SHOULD by all rights hate him. It was Soul's fault that his only daughter was lost in madness. Soul gritted his teeth.

"Soul," Spirit began, once again looking tired, and Soul braced himself, "you couldn't have done anything." …WHAT.

"What happened was Medusa's doing. No one could have predicted the out come of events. As it was three armature Meisters against a witches, a daemon blade and an immortal never had much of a chance."

"But I failed as a weapon," and as a friend, Soul added silently. Spirit smiled faintly at the comment, placing a hand on his head.

"Stein is doing all he can to help Maka and I have faith that if anyone can cure this Maddness he can. So have faith, learn more about the situation, become stronger." Spirit said, ruffling his hair.

Soul gazed dumbly at the adult. He's lost his mind…Soul came to the only logical conclusion. Why didn't Spirit hate his guts. They had never gotten along so why was he so…so…understanding.

"You can't blame yourself,"

Soul slumped, to tired to think anymore. It had been a long depressing day and he was confused and tired. Even if he had only been awake for maybe a few hours it felt like a lifetime had pasted.

Why couldn't it have been him? He had been the one infected with the Black Blood. He clenched a fist, no matter what Spirit said this was still his fault and he would do everything in his power to return Maka back to normal.


End file.
